


Enough For You

by jinkandtherebels



Category: Naruto
Genre: M/M, Pining, canon AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-16 23:20:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21044450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jinkandtherebels/pseuds/jinkandtherebels
Summary: Pining can make people do crazy things. In Shisui's case, it's some light stalking.





	Enough For You

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt fill for Day Three: "Family". Disclaimer: I haven't read Itachi Shinden and thus have very little understanding of Izumi's canon character, so this is just how I've decided to interpret her. :) Enjoy!

.

Shisui knows he’s staring. But the girl in question doesn’t seem to have noticed yet, so it’s fine.

On second thought, it’s not very promising that she _hasn’t_ noticed. Someone hasn’t trained her very well. A true shinobi never lets their guard down, not even within their own village.

(A more reasonable part of his mind points out that she would only have been a baby during the last attack on Konoha, and at any rate Shisui’s spent too much time around prodigies—himself included—to have a normal person’s idea of what constitutes basic skill.

He’s not feeling especially reasonable today, though, so he shoves those thoughts into a little box and pushes it to the side.)

Izumi wanders into a weapons shop, one too small for Shisui to follow her into without being laughably obvious. He folds himself into the shadow of another building and runs through what he knows about her while he waits.

She’s younger than he is—not by too much, but he doesn’t remember her featuring in his childhood. There’s a reason for that: she’s only half an Uchiha, like Shisui himself, only for her it was her mother who’d been born a member of the clan. Shisui carried his father’s Uchiha blood, which meant that while he grew up in the compound with aunts and uncles and endless cousins, Izumi and her parents were relegated to life in the village proper. They’d only been invited back a year or so ago, well after the death of Izumi’s father. The timing had seemed strange even then, but his half-cousin had been so far out of Shisui’s orbit at the time that he hadn’t given it much thought.

It makes a lot more sense _now_, obviously. In hindsight he’s kind of frustrated with himself for not piecing everything together sooner.

Izumi comes out of the shop with a shiny new kunai strapped to her thigh holster, the edge honed to deadly sharpness. She’s out of uniform for today, her long dark hair loose in the breeze, brown eyes shining.

She and Itachi would no doubt have disgustingly gorgeous children. But even if somebody put that kunai to Shisui’s throat and pressed, he wouldn’t admit to it.

.

He figures he can at least be proud of himself for not saying anything stupid when Itachi had mentioned, apropos of exactly nothing, that his marriage was in the process of being arranged.

Shisui doesn’t find himself lost for words often. It had been a vaguely nauseating experience.

“I am the son of the clan head,” Itachi had said, sounding like he was reading from notes. “And I will be of age soon. It is past time.”

There had been something behind his eyes that Shisui couldn’t read at all. He wondered if it was an apology.

(But why should Itachi apologize to him? the reasonable part of his mind murmured. After all, they were only family. Cousins. Friends. By all rights Shisui should have slapped him on the back and promised celebratory drinks.

That he wasn’t able to do that was his own fault, not Itachi’s, but Shisui didn’t want to think about that either so into another little thought box it went.)

Finally a handful of words managed to unstick themselves from Shisui’s throat.

“Who is it?”

Itachi hadn’t looked away. Shisui had to give him that.

“Izumi,” Itachi said. “Akira’s daughter. We are close enough in age, and my father seems to believe that we will be well suited.”

He’d barely remembered who Izumi _was_. “When’s everything official?”

Itachi had shrugged. The movement looked awkward on him.

“Our parents are expected to reach an agreement within the month.”

He’d excused himself not long after, and Shisui didn’t blame him—he should’ve at least been able to dredge up a fake smile for Itachi’s sake, but he couldn’t even manage that. Some masterful shinobi he was.

.

_A true shinobi never lets their guard down_, Shisui reflects again. Maybe he doesn’t have room to criticize Izumi after all.

The announcement never should have blindsided him like it did. Looking back, Shisui wonders if he’d just closed his eyes to all of it: the timing of Izumi’s return to the fold, the weirder-than-usual way Itachi had been acting around Shisui right before the bombshell dropped, and of course Izumi’s own position within the clan.

She’d graduated from the Academy a year early and awakened her Sharingan young; in hindsight Shisui thinks that was probably when the wheels had started turning in Fugaku’s mind. He would have known how dangerous having someone with the prized _kekkai genkai_ outside of clan walls could be—after all, if its secrets were laid bare somehow by Konoha’s council, the standing of the family Uchiha within village politics would fall. The scandal of Hatake Kakashi waltzing around with a Sharingan eye still gets the clan elders muttering in disgust.

Better to keep Izumi close. Better still to marry her off to one of their own, before some non-Uchiha upstart got any ideas.

Shisui knows all that. From a political standpoint the reasoning is flawless. Hell, even from a personal one there’s a lot to recommend it: Izumi is almost Itachi’s age, she’s pretty, and she’s intelligent enough to hold her own with the clan genius. Fugaku and Mikoto couldn’t ask for a better daughter-in-law, and any children of a couple like that will have won the genetic lottery.

He realizes he’s grinding his teeth. Izumi has moved on to a ramen stand and is having an animated conversation with the owner. Her laughter floats over the sounds of conversation and marketplace bustle, bright and sparkling.

There’s a moment, one Shisui’s not proud of, where he almost hates her.

.

Shisui’s never been ignorant of his own value to the clan. He’s worked his ass off to make sure of it ever since his parents died, acing every test in the Academy, earning commendations upon completion of every mission, carefully honing his own jutsu and techniques and mastering control of his Sharingan. Half-Uchiha or no, he’s not a bad catch himself and he knows it.

With no parents to advocate for him on the marriage market, the job theoretically falls to the clan head. Shisui has always managed to dance away from that bullet, though, burying himself in work for the Police Force and waving away any offers of help to lighten his load. He’s made himself a picture of the perfect asset—dedicated to his duties above all else. That’s something Fugaku can respect, so he hasn’t pushed Shisui on the matrimony question.

He wonders if Fugaku would’ve been so accommodating if he knew Shisui was head-over-heels for his son.

It’s not like Shisui’s ever _hidden_ that fact, per se. He’s just funneled his inconvenient feelings into acceptable outlets, like the roles of Big Brother Figure and Worldly Senpai and (Mostly) Responsible Best Friend. Itachi is allowed to be Shisui’s most important person as long as he doesn’t want more than those things. He’s known that instinctively all his life.

The irony, he thinks now, watching Izumi tuck into her bowl of shoyu pork, is that being _related_ to Itachi has never had any bearing on whether Shisui’s allowed to want him or not. Borderline incest might be frowned upon by the rest of Konoha’s oh-so-progressive populace, but inside the compound? Shisui could marry one of his cousins without anybody batting an eye. This whole arrangement with Izumi is proof of that.

The fact that he’s a _male _cousin is the insurmountable obstacle. Sure, people have their lovers behind closed doors and nobody makes a fuss as long as it stays that way, but eldest sons—particularly the heirs of clan heads—are expected to have heirs of their own. And Shisui isn’t going to be much help there.

So instead he’s reduced to stalking Itachi’s soon-to-be-fiancée because…he’s a masochist, apparently. Shisui can’t think of a better reason why he’s doing this; he has no reason to suspect Izumi’s credentials, or even her character. Everyone in the damn village seems to like her, so unless Shisui stumbles on evidence that she’s actually a Kirigakure plant who’s going to assassinate Itachi on their wedding night, there’s no point to what he’s doing. Nothing’s going to change.

Izumi’s still eating her food, the smell of pork and broth drifting over to where he lurks. Shisui’s stomach growls as he sits down on a nearby bench. It occurs to him that he hasn’t actually eaten today.

Maybe this is a sign, he muses. Maybe he should quit following an innocent girl around and do something productive with his life. Maybe he needs to swallow his bitterness and accept that Itachi’s going to build a new life with somebody who isn’t him.

Maybe he should have just assumed that in the first place, instead of being a jealous idiot and wanting things he couldn’t have.

.

“You’re Shisui, right?”

A clear feminine voice snaps him right out of his thoughts. Shisui lifts his head.

Izumi is standing in front of him with her arms folded. Shisui smothers a groan; he is so losing shinobi cred for this.

“Yeah, I am,” he says.

She sits down on the other side of the bench.

“Why are you following me?” she asks.

In what he considers to be a heroic feat of self-restraint, Shisui keeps his face blank. “What do you mean?”

Izumi narrows her eyes. “You might be my senior, but that doesn’t make me an idiot. You’ve been following me around all day. Are you going to make me ask again?”

Part of Shisui is almost charmed at the novelty of being threatened by a teenager. Especially a teenager who _might_ be half his weight soaking wet.

The bigger part of Shisui remembers the fastidiously sharpened kunai strapped to Izumi’s leg, and he decides to concede the point.

“Heard you might be part of the family twice over pretty soon,” he says, neutral. “I wanted to get a better idea of what you were like.”

“And stalking me was the best way to manage that? How is it any of your business anyway?”

Irritation flares inside him but Shisui forces it back down. This is the girl who’s going to be Itachi’s wife. The sooner he accepts that—and stops pissing her off—the easier all of this will be. He takes a deep breath.

“You’re right,” he says. “It’s not. I’m sorry.”

Izumi looks startled, but she recovers fast. “Thank you for the apology. I know you two are close; it makes sense that you would want to know more about me.” She bites her lip, suddenly awkward. “But you don’t have to worry. I do care about him, you know.”

Shisui prays for death. It doesn’t come, which means he has to keep talking.

“You do?” he asks tiredly.

Izumi is blushing now. Shisui kind of wants to tear his eyes out—how did he end up in this position?

Oh, right. As usual, he did it to himself.

“Don’t be so surprised,” Izumi mutters. “I knew him a little in the Academy. We didn’t talk much—he didn’t talk much to anyone—but he was kind to me, even if I was only half an Uchiha.”

Of course he was. Itachi doesn’t care about bloodlines or lineage; his loyalty to the village far outstrips his loyalty to the clan, though Shisui will eat his own hitayate if any of their other relatives have figured that out yet.

“I was pleased when my mother brought up the idea of a marriage between us,” Izumi is saying, the words coming out in a quiet rush. “I thought we would make a good partnership. I thought—I thought I could make him happy.”

The last of Shisui’s less-than-righteous indignation leeches out of him as she talks. He can’t be pissed if Izumi’s in love with Itachi, because that would make him a hypocrite. And he _definitely_ can’t be pissed that she wants to make Itachi happy, because that would make him a terrible person.

(He’s coming to the unfortunate conclusion that Izumi might be the less selfish person on this bench, and Shisui’s run out of little boxes in which to shove his less savory thoughts, so that one is just staring him accusingly in the face. Great.)

Izumi sighs and gets up. “Well, I’ve said what I wanted to say. We’ll say it was heatstroke that made you decide to follow me, if anybody asks.”

Shisui winces. “Yeah, that might be for the best. Sorry again for that, by the way.”

She shrugs. “You probably understand my position better than most. Some of the clan elders still don’t like me, since I’m only half.” Her mouth curls up in a smirk that is very Uchiha. “But I’ll have plenty of time to prove myself worthy of the future clan head.”

He frowns. “What do you mean?”

Izumi’s grin melts into confusion.

“Didn’t he tell you?” she asks.

.

He finds Itachi in the usual forest clearing, annihilating practice targets with ruthless efficiency. Shisui waits until he runs out of shuriken to make himself known.

“Hey.”

Itachi’s not even breathing hard. Typical. “Hello, Shisui.”

“Don’t ‘hello, Shisui’ me,” Shisui says dryly. “I just had a really interesting talk with your fiancée. Or,” he adds, narrowing his eyes, “should I say your ex-fiancée? What’s the terminology here?”

Itachi suddenly looks very focused on rubbing a dirt stain out of his sleeve.

“It’s not as if I called the whole thing off,” he says. “That would have been irresponsible and insulting. I only suggested that Izumi and I are doing good work for the clan in our current positions, and it would be short sighted to expect one or both of us to settle down so early in our careers. Izumi agreed with my reasoning.” He tilts his head. “I believe she also insinuated something about making certain clan elders see the error of their ways.”

“Did she, now.” Izumi’s smirk glitters in his memory. Shisui files that away in his mental notes: she’s the kind of person who enjoys a fight. “And what did your parents think about that?”

Itachi looks strangely pleased with himself. “My father accepted our arguments. I have earned myself a year’s reprieve before he broaches the subject again.”

“Why delay it at all?” Shisui presses, because he’s incapable of _not_ shooting himself in the foot. “We both know your career will be fine even if you do take a honeymoon break—”

“Why were you following Izumi around all afternoon?” Itachi interrupts, his voice mild.

_Damn, she’s fast_. Shisui files that information away too, but dammit, he’s _Shunshin no Shisui_. He can handle fast.

“I’m not proud of it,” he says.

“As well you shouldn’t be.”

“And what about you?” Shisui retorts. “If I’d come up to you and said ‘by the way, I’m getting engaged inside of a month’, what would you have done?”

Itachi finally looks him in the eye, but Shisui can’t quite read his expression.

“I suppose I would have been very happy for you,” he says. Shisui snorts.

“I know you can lie better than that.”

Itachi raises an eyebrow. “As can you. Yet you haven’t bothered to do so once since I first brought up the engagement.”

Shisui blinks. There’s something in Itachi’s not-question, the tone of it—something that almost feels like a challenge.

“Why would I have to lie about that?”

“Most people would at least congratulate their friend on an impending engagement,” Itachi says.

He can’t argue with that. Shisui’s been kicking himself along similar lines, knowing it’d be way less weird if he congratulated Itachi like a normal person, knowing deep down that Itachi would notice and wonder. And he still hadn’t done it. In hindsight, maybe it was more of his penchant for self-sabotage.

Or maybe Shisui’s just tired of all this fucking pining. It doesn’t suit him; it makes him do embarrassing shit like stalking people and then getting caught.

Itachi’s looking at him with that way of his, like Shisui’s an open book he’s read a thousand times, like he _knows_. And Shisui’s never been one to back down from a challenge. He swallows hard and takes a chance.

“Most people aren’t stupid enough to fall in love with their friends,” he says. “So, you know—”

It’s like he’s flipped a switch: the words are barely out before Shisui’s back is hitting rough tree bark and his mouth is suddenly otherwise occupied.

Huh. Maybe he hasn’t been the only one repressing things here.

The kiss only lasts a handful of seconds, but Shisui’s skin still feels feverishly hot when they break apart. Itachi is looking at him with dark eyes.

“That,” he says, his fingers twisting in Shisui’s vest, “would have been honesty.”

“Yeah, I guess I could’ve taken that approach,” Shisui agrees, a little breathless, before pulling him in again. There’s a full-blown lecture in Itachi’s eyes but he figures they can deal with that later. He’s been waiting for this a long time.

(The reasonable part of his mind observes that he’s probably flinging his own heart over a cliff, but Shisui finds a new box to shove that thought into.

Even if it’s a totally correct assessment, he feels confident that it’s going to be worth every single second.)

.

Later, after Itachi manages to get the rest of his lecture in and the stars are coming out and it’s officially too dark for “training exercise” to be a valid cover story anymore, Shisui asks the question that’s been nagging at him.

“So, dumping your engagement on me like that.” He squints. “Were you baiting me?”

Itachi doesn’t even have the grace to look ashamed of himself. “I did wonder what you would do. But if it helps, I would have tried to postpone matters in any case. I think…” He hesitates. “I think Izumi and I both have decisions to make.”

_I do care about him, you know_. Shisui remembers those words, and the fire in Izumi’s eyes when she’d talked about knocking the clan elders down a peg. He wonders how much of her passion is actually about Itachi and how much is about proving herself.

He also wonders if thinking like that is just a coward’s way out.

Itachi is watching him. Shisui knocks their foreheads together and works up the last of his courage.

“Just so you know,” he says, since they’re trying for _honesty_ now, “I don’t plan on going down without a fight.”

And even in the dark he can see Itachi’s smile when it comes—warm, and not at all surprised.

“I never imagined you would,” he says.

**Author's Note:**

> Me? Writing two fics in a row about arranged marriages? It's more likely than you'd think.


End file.
